The Truth Uncovered
by Spirit Of Euphoria
Summary: He's been held captive by the most feared Dark Wizard in the world for five years. But now he's escaped, perhaps things aren't all they seem...A fic for all Quirrell fans out there!


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A/N: This fic is to my knowledge, an original idea (meaning I've not seen it on ff.net before). So if I've unknowingly pinched anyone's idea, I'm sorry but I really didn't know. Anyway, this is an unusual spin on a character that not many people write fics for. Yes, good old Professor Quirrell :o) I know he was such a bad guy in TPS and that he's dead after his encounter with Harry, but because I love him so much, I thought he deserved to have his name cleared…for none of us know what really happened in that Albanian Forest, do we? 

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the mentioned characters, or anything you recognise from Harry Potter. They are all the ingenious invention of J.K. Rowling.

The Truth Uncovered

By Silver Willow

Chapter 1

A flash of lightning tore through the inky night sky, illuminating the landscape for a split second before it disappeared into the darkness again. Thunder crashed deafeningly and rumbled through the heavens, and faded into the distance.

Choking hoarsely, he stumbled blindly through the thick tangles of undergrowth, managing to avoid clumps of Devil's Snare by what seemed like a small miracle. Overhanging tree branches clawed at him like demented souls, ripping ravenously at his robes. 

He had been running for what seemed like days now. The storm stubbornly refused to leave the skies, and had wreaked its anger upon the land for several days. He had lost track of all time. He just prayed for some kind of place where he could rest from the cruel storm, where he could tend to his wounds. 

An owl hooted from its place in a tree, and he instinctively flinched, letting out a frightened whimper. Every little sound he heard, every twig that cracked beneath his footstep, was magnified to him. It made him think he was being followed. He'd got this far without being caught…it couldn't happen now.

He broke into a slow run, his muscles aching unbearably, his breath catching painfully in his throat. His whole body was crying its protest against him, begging him to surrender and stop. But he couldn't. He had to find someone…anyone.

Stumbling through a clearing, he fell to the floor, having skidded on a patch of slippery mud. Digging his fingers into the liquid earth, he took a deep, shuddering breath, and struggled to his feet again. It would be so easy to surrender to sleep in a thicket of soft grass somewhere, but he knew full well if he let sleep overcome him, he would be found. He couldn't let that happen. If _he _found him, he knew he had little chance of surviving.

He stopped for a while, and clutched his chest desperately. It was becoming increasingly painful for him to draw breath; each gasp of air he took felt like an icy blast of wind cutting into his lungs.

"Please…" he choked out, to the clear night sky, partially visible through the thick branches of the trees in the forest. "I can't stand this…"

But his determination made him carry on. There had to be a place nearby, there just had to be. His surroundings looked strangely familiar, but he couldn't remember where from.

Stumbling into a pool of moonlight in a small clearing, he saw, as if by some wondrous miracle, an end to the forest. He could see small twinkling lights through the thick branches of the trees. To him, they meant civilisation, somewhere safe to lie low.

As the lights moved towards him, he noticed the outline of a large, grey castle, its windows gleaming in the starlight. Letting out a hoarse cry of relief, he realised where he was at long last. He had never imagined escaping and returning to his home; alone and virtually powerless, he had lost his will to escape a long time ago.

He stumbled thankfully up a wide flight of stone steps, and staggered towards a large pair of wooden doors. He didn't know how he was going to get past these doors; would they assume he was an intruder? 

Going against his better judgement, he placed his hand cautiously on the wrought-iron door handle, and turned it. It was locked, as he had thought. Now where could he go? He had to get inside somehow, but he knew that until lessons began the next morning, nobody would be outside. Especially not now, since Voldemort's rising. 

When he had escaped, his travels had taken him around several towns, and he had encountered witches and wizards along his way. From what he could gather from their gossiping, Voldemort had risen to full power again. So all of his protests had been in vain, he thought bitterly. He might as well have just given in to Voldemort, for all the good it had done now.

But he dismissed the thought. At least he knew the truth, if nobody else did. Despite the tortures, he had stuck to his word. He wasn't about to go against everything he believed in. Ravenclaws certainly weren't cowardly or dishonest.

Turning around to seek refuge somewhere until the morning, he saw a huge figure running towards him, a crossbow in his arms and a large black dog growling ferociously. Letting out a frightened scream, he turned to run, but tripped headlong down the stone stairs. 

His head cracked sharply on the concrete, and the last memory he had before surrendering to unconsciousness was of the large figure looking at him and exclaiming "Bloody hell…Professor Quirrell!"

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A/N: I've been meaning to write this for ages now and I've finally done it! Might be a bit of a delay between chapters because of college work :o( but I'll keep them coming as fast as I can! Read and review please…I want to know what you think!!!


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